


Hereditary Enemies

by Kaz3313



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Discorperation, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-30 02:29:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20807015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaz3313/pseuds/Kaz3313
Summary: It was a long time ago that Azriaphale and Crowley (so far back it'd still be Crawley) considered each other true enemies. After finding an old scar Azriphale is reminded of the terrible event of thier second run in.





	Hereditary Enemies

It was nice to be able to finger comb Crowley's hair. Not that Aziraphale couldn't before, but after the Not Apocalypse and the Trials they both found it more secure to do everything they had wanted. The two spent more and more time together until it was very rare to see one without the other. They were even talking about moving in together, though they were unsure where.

Today they were in the bookshop and Aziraphale made an off hand comment about how tangled Crowley's hair must be. Crowley offered in a light tone, "If it is such an offense, angel, comb it yourself". Aziraphale had smiled and had guided him to the chair, where Crowley sat on his lap letting his angel run fingers through his hair.

It was gorgeous; Aziraphale long ago had decided this fact but found himself reminded of it. He began to play with it more then comb but Crowley gave no indication that he should stop. He parted it in odd ways half braiding it before untangling it once again. Then his finger brushed over something...odd.

Aziraphale pushed the hair away revealing a scar on the back of his head. He drew in a sharp breath and closed his eyes trying to push down what information his mind was feeding him.

"Angel? Is something wrong?" Crowley asked but before he could respond Aziraphale was already plunged onto memory lane.

If Heaven wrote missions on scrolls then Aziraphale would've first been handed a scroll that said ‘ Guard Eden’ then promptly, after Adam and Eve bit into the apple, handed a just as blunt scroll that would say ‘Discorparate, or if possible Destroy, any Demon you come across’. However they just used word of mouth and expected everyone to take it with no questions. Aziraphale would never question Heaven directly but he had many running through silently in his brain.

He’d just a few minutes ago been given the mission from Gabriel and luck be had it, he saw the Demon Crawley walking along with a group of people. He was laughing and joking and must be tempting them as well (even if Aziraphale didn’t catch any specific temptation). Azriaphale’s first reaction was to give a quick wave and go on his way but… doubt plagued his mind. Heaven surely would find out if he didn’t try to Discorporate the Demon (he was not thinking about the destroying part the Archangel slid into his assignment) and Crawley would just return back to Hell, no harm done?

“Talk to you later, Abel. Have a good day with the sheep,” Azripahle caught the last of his conversation before the human group went their separate ways. Crawley gave a small smirk and waved- No doubt he planted evil into their minds.

At this time Azriphale realized he had no weapon in hand which gave him a disadvantage and you should never be disadvantaged when dealing with a Demon. He was a clever Angel though, and he took to hiding behind a building while he waited. There was many things laying around you could use as weapons-basket, brick, brick in a basket- just as well as the environment could be twisted too as well. All you have to do is look closely.

He followed Crawley around for awhile, the Demon was just idly walking around not doing anything that was outwardly demonic. He talked to a few kids, animals, and every once in awhile someone in the market. He must be planning something dastardly, thought Aziraphale, and thanked God when Crawley finally left the crowds of people. 

Dirty walkways, torn clothes, dying sick animals,broken glass and the like was where he finally decided to plan the atta- the pr- he isn’t sure what to consider this. Nevermind all that, this was the kind of place fit for a Demon and Aziraphale didn’t wish to stay long. 

He wanted this to be quick and relatively painless, glancing by he saw a rusty gardening tool. It may not be used for the fields anymore but it would do for this holy task. He hastily grabs it but then stares at the weapon. 

What was he doing? Crawley was a Demon but besides giving Adam and Eve an apple he really hadn’t done anything wrong. Well it was wrong, obviously, horribly wrong making the humans commit the first sin. Yet, Crawley never made people do things. He gave them choices. The option to do right and wrong.

‘And what’s so wrong about knowing good from bad,” He’d asked Azriaphale on the garden wall. He thought about it, truly took a moment to. All the other Demons were more violent and dangerous than Crawley. Shouldn’t he go after them instead? Why waste his time on such a mild mannered Demon?

He lets the hoe slip from his fingers; he catches it but it still makes a small clink.

“Hm?” It was luck, or maybe a miracle, that Crawley turned the wrong way to find the noise. 

It was now or never. He swung the weapon, much like baseball players would in later years.

“Thud,” It connected against Crawley’s head a deafening noise being produced. He collapsed in an instant a strangled noise upon his lips.

Aziraphale felt everything freeze up. His body turned to ice, he couldn't move, he couldn't think, he could barely keep the tool in his hand. All he had to do was bring it down against him a few more times and the deed would be done. But his breath caught in his throat and his legs became like sand pillars; on edge of falling if so much the wind blew the wrong way.

Crawley turned around, rolled around more like it, and faced his attacker. At seeing the white haired Principality his pupils dilated and his mouth twitched between a frown, smile, and disbelief.

"A-Aziraphale?" He stared his mouth moving but no words followed.

"I- well, um. You know, duty calls? This is just what it means to, uh, be my adversary. Can't have demons on the loose on my watch," He gave a nervous chuckle and looked everywhere but him lying lamely on the ground. He didn't need to explain himself to the Demon but maybe it would clear things up. Make things easier on the both of them.

"B-but the sword. And the rain. And we… we talked," Crawley's voice cracked as he recounted previous events. Aziraphale tried to keep his heart from cracking along with it. 

"Crawley, that was before-" He would explain again. He would explain it over and over if need be.

"No! You- You absolute- You really are a fucking angel!" Crawley lips pulled back into a snarl while his eyes glew a more poignant yellow. He pounced out and Aziraphale let out a gasp in the sudden change of demeanor.

He was toppled to the ground in one foul swoop; nails dug into his sides keeping him grounded as did the weight of Crawley heavy on his chest(much later Aziraphale will be surprised on how light he actually is). His weapon had been dropped during the fray and it lay helpless at his side.

"I thought you were different- You gave away your sword for crying out loud! But you- You! Cruel holy beassst! Not even Demonsss sink thiss low," Ocult energy radiated off in the amounts of waterfalls, blood dripped from his wound like fruit dropping from a tree(as in a sporadic and unpredictable), and his eyes told of any and all tortures he could bring about( he finds out that Crawley's form of "tortue" are not stereotypically hell ones. He always seems to prefer the ones that get on your nerves then painful ones. For example a leaky faucet dripping in your eye). 

Aziraphale reached for the hoe but his hand was grabbed, now pinned to the ground. The grasp tightened around his wrist while long nails dug into his palm. Gold slithered down staining the Demon's hands.

"Ah!" Aziraphale let out a pule and struggled under him. He found neither kicking nor rocking was working and both his hands were made useless. In desperation he swung his head at Crawley's and they connected in a dull thump. 

His ears rang and head echoed the noise but Crawley's grip loosened. His hands escaped and he grabbed onto his shoulders and threw him off.

"Crunch," Crawley landed with an unusual and cruel noise. His body gave a last shake before laying limp at a strange angle.

"...Crawley?" Aziraphale carefully approached the still Demon and inspected him. His eyes drifted from his tangled red hair to what stuck out of the back of his head; the gardening tool. He gingerly touched it finding it wet with fresh blood. 

Bile rose to the back of his throat and his head swam as the blood was stuck to his fingers. He did a quick miracle, head office couldn't scold him for that one, and the sticky crimson left his fingers. Yet the smell was as powerful as ever.

That's because you're by a corp- a discorperated Demon, reasoned Aziraphale. He rose to his feet but his eyes were glued to what lay before him. He'd… actually done it. He Discorporated a Demon; whose lying motionless with his eyes glossed over and open. 

More unease seized his stomach and only a few minutes later he found himself emptying his stomach onto the already putrid street. It was then he decided the best course of action was to get as far away from here as possible. 

So very hastily, Aziraphale fled; the scent of blood followed along and clogged up his nose.

Aziraphale found himself haunted by the events. It was ridiculous- he was just doing what he was supposed to. So why did he see phantom blood on the tips of his fingers? Why wouldn't the smell be lifted? Why couldn't it leave his mind for just a minute? He was given a pastry by a kind older women and found himself having to hide and then throw up. He could taste a metallic tang.

He stood, looking at fresh fruit at the market. (not that he planned to purchase any) and listened to people talking. What chatter they all made; it was nice...kept his mind occupied. 

"Did you hear about who they found killed? " Aziraphale felt his body stiffen. Why-why was this crime still following him? 

"Yep, poor boy. Did you hear who they suspect killed him,". They couldn't know- 

"No- well, besides he did it with the intention of pleasing God's I don't know anything about the suspect," Aziraphale closed his eyes. No, no, he didn't want to hear anymore. He was justified! He's an Angel!

" It was his own brother! Cain's his name. Sent off luckily, won't bother us anymore," His shoulders relax.

They weren't talking about him. No one was. No one knew.

It was several weeks later and he'd finally been able to eat. The metal taste drifted in his senses but he insisted that it was just his mind playing tricks. Suddenly he was grabbed from behind and dragged to the wall. 

Aziraphale's face smashed into the stone and he let out a muffled shout. He couldn't face his attacker, as his head was held still, but he felt their breath on the side of his neck.

"Sso, how'sss it feel? To be sneaked up on, that is. Just minding your own buisnesss," his head was just let up a touch to talk.

"Crawley!" He exclaimed and found he was shoved back into the wall. It didn't matter- he was back! And not discorporated! And-

Why did he care?

"I could break you in so many ways," Crawley stated in his ear and a shiver runs along his spine. "Maybe do what you did to me-break your skull," he touched the back of his head with a little flick of his fingers. "Could leave you to bleed out… maybe bite you. Have you discorporate from poison intake. Or," He was already so close but somehow he approached even closer " I could simply bring you to the edge of it. Then, instead of mercifully relieving all your pain I just keep you there. Go on, choose,"

Aziraphale closed his eyes. He didn't care- he awaited his sentence.

"What are you doing?"

"Um, waiting,"

"For what?"

"Well, I uh, didn't really want to choose anything I thought you wou-"

"Your not going to defend yourself?"

"...no. You, um, wiley serpent have gotten me! Pinned to a wall no less! I can't escape," Aziraphale just wanted him to get this over with.

Instead the pressure on his back was let up and he found himself able to turn around.

"...Fighting over and over again is pointless...How about we talk this through over…" Crawley started thinking desperately of a good place.

"Over lunch?"

"Angel! Hey, Aziraphale!" A shout brought him back to present times. 

"Oh, yes. Crowley, dear, you have a scar," Azriaphale said as he quickly covered it back up.

"Huh, wonder where I got that," 

"BC, second time meeting," His voice shook.

"Hmm, I don't remember getting a scar. We were at the bakery that time. Lovely little plac-"

"Our actual second meeting… the "forgotten" one," 

"Angel, we don't talk about that one," That's when Aziraphale's tears came cascading down his face.

"I-I know dear boy but-" He let a choked sob "but-how h-how could I? How could I bring you so-so much pain? " He couldn't even bring himself to say anymore. Instead he showered his demon in kisses and his demon showered him back.

They stayed embracing each other for a long while; happy that time had been kind to them.


End file.
